Of Blood and Raspberries
by Gabrielle MB
Summary: When the war is over, what will Relena do with her life? 1xR RxD shoujo ai


**Of Blood and Raspberries**

**author** Gabrielle MB (gabbymb@japanimation.com)  
**fandom** Gundam Wing (Sotsu, Sunrise and Bandai own it)  
**warnings** None really. Some vague spoilers for GW : Endless Waltz. 1xR (R+D hints - shoujo ai)  
**notes** 'How has Relena changed after the war and how does it show?' was the initial thought I had when writing this story for Psyche's 'Women at War' fic challenge, but I think it turned out just a wee bit too pairing-oriented to qualify. Oops? It's a bit rushed as well since I forgot the deadline was the 23rd, *not* the 30th. This fic takes place after EW. Heero and Relena are married. Hooyeah. Nothing else. 

---- 

Life goes on even after the scent of gunpowder fades and warring nations smile at each other with venomous lips. She knows this but the media does not, Relena muses one evening after a hard day of work. 

To the media her life is glamorous - huge headlines about a dead father, a fallen country, lost pride and the sparkle of a meaningless tiara. Newspapers gobble up all the info they're given, photograph her until her eyes and lips ache. 

Sometimes when a light snaps right in her face, Relena is reminded of the flares that used to go off during MS attacks. Occasionally when reporters shout out questions in a garbled cacophony of sound, Relena remembers the screams of innocent people that fell right from her sides. She remembers feeling helpless and lost. 

She remembers her hero and his bloodstained hands. 

Relena sits up in her chair, pushes it a bit away from the desk and smiles at all the unfinished paperwork, at the sheets of paper that require her signature. It's late, the sky outside her office window an artificial bluish black. She sees a star, makes a wish upon it. 

"I'm leaving now, Relena-san." 

She starts a bit, but lifts a hand in greeting quickly enough. Her secretary lingers in the doorway, gaze hesitant. 

"You should go get some sleep as well, Relena-san. You have an important meeting tomorrow on L2, and you need to get up early. Please, Relena-san." 

Relena nods, makes as if to rise from her chair, but pauses and sits back down. She waves her hand distractedly, watching a shooting star travel across the sky. 

"You go on ahead, Kira-san. I'll retire for the evening in a little while." 

Relena's secretary nods and closes the door. Relena relaxes back in her chair, traces a fingertip down the cold pane of glass. She gives her reflection a tiny smile, remembers that Heero is expecting her at home. Sometimes Relena wonders why her Prince chose to stay with his Princess even after the only thing binding them together - war - ended in peace. 

---- 

Heero is standing on the doorstep, wearing a vaguely worried expression when Relena makes her way up the driveway towards him. She walks past her silent husband into the darkened entry hall with a tilt of her head. Heero nods curtly. 

"You're late", he says, reaching for Relena's creamy white jacket. She slips her arms free and smiles at the matured lines of the Perfect Soldier. 

"I'm sorry, Heero. I had a quite a bit more to do than I initially thought", she answers like she always does. Every time Relena comes home late from work, it's always the same words, same movements, same expression. It's both comforting and suffocating at the same time. Heero nods, hangs his wife's coat on a polished coat rack and moves past her towards the kitchen. 

Relena watches him go, a sad little smile on her lips. Their marriage is beautiful, she thinks. It's what she's always wanted and she knows it. 

Heero moves back into the hall, his steely stare and the line between his eyebrows ordering her to follow. 

And Relena does. Like an obedient Princess should. 

---- 

She has an aversion to shuttles. The soundless way they glide through space remind her of the last war, how she held her breath and trusted Heero with every fiber of her being. She remembers Mariemaia, the scent of gunpowder and the click of an empty gun. 

Dorothy is there with her in the shuttle. Relena leans imperceptibly to the side, feels the warmth of Dorothy's pale red overcoat through the thick cardigan she has pulled over her skirt suit. The blonde-haired girl is looking at her reflection in the thick glass of the shuttle's window, lost in thought. 

Relena gasps just a little when a shooting star streaks across the sky leaving behind a momentary tail like that of a plummeting Mobile Suit. 

Dorothy is watching her movements ripple across the window, eyes heavy and serious. Relena clears her throat, suddenly can't think of anything to say. Dorothy is there just because Relena invited her along. Heero has gone ahead, and Relena didn't want to be alone during the two-hour trip. 

Relena is painfully aware of how Dorothy is dressed in casual clothes, her hair bound in a loose braid. For a moment, nothing exists beyond their shared seating quarters. 

"Relena-sama, can I ask you a question?" Dorothy speaks up suddenly, and Relena's heart jumps into her throat. She smoothes her hands down over her knees, nervous and not knowing why. 

"Yes, of course, Dorothy." 

"If you were to die now, would you go in peace?" 

Relena says nothing. In her head she is going over all the security measures to be taken if the shuttle were to be hit by a passing Mobile Suit or space debris. It takes her five minutes to realize that the war is over, and that Dorothy is smiling. 

---- 

Relena's secretary walks beside her, the click of her heels a comforting sound after Dorothy's metallic laughter. The ice-blonde touched a warm hand to her cheek and whispered twisted words of shrinks and dolls and illicit affairs. 

Relena's cheeks warm up even now, something aches in the back of her throat making it impossible to breathe for a short instance. 

But she still steps into the conference room with her head held high. 

---- 

Relena always has her secretary inform her hosts about her little idiosyncracy before her arrival. She wants the tea to be served in a pot, cups and saucers brought in on a different tray. This time also a small plate of lemon cookies is placed on the table by her elbow. She doesn't take one. 

Relena sips her tea only after it has been tasted by the host on the other side of the wide conference room table. Nobody comments and she is glad. 

---- 

It is Relena's policy that after her meeting is over, she strolls through the neighbourhoods of the colony she is visiting. It gives her an opportunity to see if the old, hard-faced men keep their promises of using funds to aid the poor and sickly. Often she is quite satisfied by the work everyone puts into rebuilding their lives, the way children scurry across the street with their bodies plump, knees scraped. 

She walks through the melting heat of L2's afternoon, the jacket of her skirt suit folded over one arm, pale blue shirt tucked in properly. Dorothy joined her earlier at the bottom of the stairway leading up to the embassy's war-torn building, her arms bare and white in the sunshine. 

They walk in silence, Heero an imperceptible shadow following some steps behind. He is on duty. Relena suppresses a fond little smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

She has pulled her hair up from her neck, fastened it up in an adult bun. Dorothy's hair is still in its messy braid, strands of sunkissed ice flicking against Relena's cheek at every step. 

Dorothy's scent reaches Relena's nose. Raspberries. 

Heero always smells like sulphur and death, his eyes blank and unsmiling. 

---- 

Relena walks. She observes, and approves. Some buildings have collapsed under the stress of war, some are still standing, but even after all the death and destruction there are men and women working hard on building their futures. Relena's smile turns wistful, her eyes ache a little. 

There are cheerful shouts, the scent of sweat and homemade cooking. There are dogs and children playing war in a rundown shack beside the walkway. Their eyes are huge, cheeks smudged. Tiny hands clutch at sticks and stones as Relena walks past with her two companions. There are whispers but she keeps walking. 

The world of L2 is starting to piece back together. Little by little Relena can see it mending. 

---- 

The flight home is uneventful. Dorothy dozes against Relena's shoulder, Heero sits close to the entrance to the cockpit. Relena bites at her lip, the warm weight of Dorothy's body comforting in the chillness of the endless night of space. 

Relena thinks briefly of children. She has to smile at the thought of a little girl with her hair and Heero's eyes running in a field of green grass in a pastel yellow sundress, gaze intent on a tiny puppy. Dorothy moves in her sleep, and the little girl's eyes change color from cobalt blue to ice. Relena's little girl sits down, her lips in a pout as pale blonde highlights shoot through her hair. 

Relena swallows, her fingers tangled in the tail end of Dorothy's braid resting in her lap. 

There are thoughts of Heero and the past. There are thoughts of the future and the numb progression of days, each similar to the last. Thoughts of children and pets and white hair. 

Relena looks up sharply, feeling watched. Thoughts of sunshine change into the knowledge of a small, hidden gun in her handbag. She meets Heero's gaze, relaxes. The man has stood up and moved to her. She looks up at him. Heero looks down at her. 

"We'll be there shortly. Relena." 

She nods, gives a vague smile. Heero is still there, his long-boned hand gripping at the back of the seat in front of Relena. His brows furrow, eyes flick down to stare at Relena's hand holding onto Dorothy's hair. 

"I need her. You know that." 

"Aa." 

Heero reseats himself. Relena looks to her side, into the awake eyes of Dorothy. There is a momentary flashback to rapiers, blood and hot kisses shared in secret, but Relena knows that the girls are now women. 

There is no going back to the past, but there is the sudden thought of a future devoid of the stench of blood. 

Relena smiles into her hand. 


End file.
